Gender selection is not a new concept. There are old wives tales that date back to the beginning of time and span all countries from the Far East to the West. From sexual positions and dietary considerations to consulting the alignment of the planets and stars, or my favorite, the Chinese gender predictor – there are plenty of techniques to achieve the sex of your choice. And they should all be taken with a grain (or a large heap) of salt.

After fertilization and three days of incubation, an embryologist uses a laser to cut a hole through an embryo’s protective membrane and then picks out one of the eight cells. Fluorescent dyes allow the embryologist to see the chromosomes and determine whether the embryo is carrying the larger XX pair of chromosomes or the tinier XY. The remaining seven cells will go on to develop normally if the embryo is chosen and implanted in a client’s uterus.

What do you think? Is this playing God or is it no more invasive than so many fertility procedures that have become common these days?

Whether or not you agree with the scientific technique, I take great issue with the slant of this article. The author paints a picture of Americans of Caucasian, Chinese and Indian decent using gender selection in a way that solely perpetuates stereotypes. If you want a girl, you will dress her in all pink and buy her every Barbie ever manufactured. She will be passive, creative and gentle. She will make the perfect homemaker. If you want a boy, you will play sports with him and buy him the hottest new gaming device. He will be dominant, smart and strong. He will make the perfect provider.

For Jennifer Merrill Thompson, the reasons were simple. “I’m not into sports. I’m not into violent games. I’m not into a lot of things boys represent and boys do,” she said.

Ok, clearly she is generalizing, but she is one example, right? Well, this was the conclusion drawn in the very next paragraph:

Interviews with several women from the forums at in-gender.com and genderdreaming.com yielded the same stories: a yearning for female bonding. Relationships with their own mothers that defined what kind of mother they wanted to be to a daughter. A desire to engage in stereotypical female activities that they thought would be impossible with a baby boy.

What? How did we get to that last sentence? It’s a huge leap from a “yearning for female bonding” to a “desire to engage in stereotypical female activities.”

When first trying to conceive, I myself yearned for a daughter. I drew heavily from the bond I have with my own mother and very much wanted to continue that exchange with my hypothetical daughter. However there is no pink in this picture. My mother is a strong woman in every sense of the word. She raised me to believe I could do anything I wanted. I was a “tomboy” as a young child; playing, running, jumping, wearing hand-me-downs from my older male cousins and playing with their old matchbox cars. Even as I got older and embraced my femininity, I still believed I had the strength – physical, mental and emotional – to match (and surpass) any male. My daughter, in just her 18-months appears to be cut from the same cloth. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The daughter I’d always dreamed of

Gender preferences are normal and often reflect the relationships that molded us. Our dreams of family are so intensely personal that they should not be judged or generalized. If it was as simple as having a playmate to dress up with and pour some tea for, we’d all just have a wonderful doll collection. At least they’d let you take a piss in peace.

9 Responses to I wanted a daughter so that must make me, my mother and my baby three generations of 1950s housewives

Articles like this drive me nuts. I wish I hadn’t even read it because the spin is so blatant and ridiculous. Generalizing on women who hope for a daughter ONLY so they can dress them in pink tutus and tiaras and roll them in glitter glue — what a crock and poor excuse for the hopes of women everywhere to teach their children empowerment and love whichever way they damn please. One thing about journalism as of the late is the non-stop division of complicated issues being transformed into black and white, one-side of the line (or the other), no critical thinking or deep discussion. Ugh!

Wow. It’s crazy to see the gender molds people shove their kids into before they’re even born! When I was pregnant, I thought about having a boy or a girl equally and for a lot of different reasons, but never because I thought having one or the other would take away some opportunity for me to play dress up. I hope my daughter becomes whatever person she wants to be, whether that is a ballerina, a soccer player, a housewife, a senator, gay, straight, married, single, whatever. And should I ever have a son, I want the same for him. I guess I’m just not the type who feels like gender is really that big of a deal.

I agree with you 100% as far as my hopes for my children – girls or boys – why can’t they understand that? But that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to have a girl – because I did – but it wasn’t one that was destined to be a princess.

I’ve read things that argue the opposite but, to me, having a baby is an absolute perfect miracle. The fact that we humble mammals can bring life from our own bodies astounds me and always will. Call me simple. As far as fertility treatments for those unable to conceive naturally, I’m not one to judge since I’ve never walked in those shoes. I do, however, feel strongly about gender selection. How dare we! It’s like saying you’d be less grateful for one sex over the other. Thanks, Carinn, for the interesting debate topic!

I have nominated you for the One Lovely Blog nominations award, Congratulations’!
On a personal note your blogs are insightful, beautiful and worth finding. I wanted a girl and got three boys and they taught me how to raise them I was lost being from a family with 2 other sisters and only 1 brother who spent more time away than home. Lost Lamb

Thank you so much! Your words mean so much to me. I love the idea that you got what you needed even when it wasn’t what you thought you wanted. Life has a funny way of doing that over and over. We are best to listen rather than tell…